


To Who It May Concern

by aggressive_pepsi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Endverse, self-hate, this is a suicide note based fic so please be warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 21:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4802369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aggressive_pepsi/pseuds/aggressive_pepsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is about to finally give in to Lucifer and become his vessel. This is his open letter to tell his story, and why he's giving up. Endverse fic, major warning for suicidal ideation and implied rape/sexual coersion, especially in later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Who It May Concern

To Who It May Concern

My name is Sam Winchester. I'm supposed to be living a normal life. I'm supposed to be doing a lot of things. According to some, I'm supposed to be hunting the sort of things that go bump in the night. To others I'm supposed to be a vessel for the unspeakable, just a body for them to occupy. To my brother, I'm supposed to just be alive, which honestly is the farthest thing from my mind right now.I don't even know what I'm trying to say anymore honestly. I came with an intent to tell my story before I finally give in to fate, to just make it all stop, but I cant help but believe that no one would really want to hear it. Not like my brother's story. Its always about my brother's story. I might be a little bitter, but that might just be the cynical attitude I've picked up since the end of days.

Years ago, things were okay. As okay as a hunter's life could be. I was normal, relatively speaking. I mean I did kill monsters for a living, but that was the weirdest part of my life. And then the visions started. If I'm being honest, they had been there for a while before that even. When I was still trying to live a truly normal life. It started with me having horrible nightmares, visions of my then-girlfriend's death. I thought they were just nightmares. It's been over five years and I still blame myself for not paying more attention But at the time I was caught up with looking for my father with my brother. He had gone missing, and our dad was everything to my brother. I think deep down, it was because Dean sought his approval. He never gave it, not even after death. Not to me at least, and the way Dean acted after he died, he probably didn't give it to him either.

Our father raised us as monster hunters, ever since our mother died, murdered by a demon. Turns out, like it always does, that it was, in a major way, my fault. He devoted his lives and ours to hunting down the down the demon that killed mom. When he started, he didn't even know how to kill a demon. I think he was desperate to get some sort of vengeance. But he devoted his children's lives just the same. Dean was about four when it happened. I was six months to the day, and he still blamed me.

But that sort of life takes a toll on someone. I never knew a home, never knew safety, never had friends to speak of. Dean was the closest thing, but we fought like brothers, which I guess was the only normal thing about my life. I tried to do well in school, since I knew it was my only way out of the life. That drive made me near useless of a hunter, since I would put academics above any hunts I'd be directed at, and as far as dad was concerned, that made me just useless in general. I tried running away a few times, but they always found me. I don't know how, or why they bothered looking. Maybe Dean had pressured dad into letting me come back "home". Dean never did well without me. Still doesn't as far as I know. But it was at school where I met my girlfriend, the only person who ever really saw me as me. Her name was Jessica Moore, and she was my everything for a solid 18 months when I was in graduate school I was gearing up to go to law school, to get a real house with her finally, to live a stable, happy life, when it happened.

Dean and I hadn't spoken for nearly a year at that point I think, when he showed up on my doorstep. The dreams had started about a night or two before, and I still dream about her to this day. But Dean showed up, and basically twisted my arm into finding dad. He asked right in front of Jess too, who valued my family deeply. He knew that when he asked. Ill never forget exactly what he said. Jess was a civilian as we call them, and he didn't just outright say he was worried dad got killed by some monster. He just said he had been missing. That alone was nothing major He was always missing, he was an absent father. When that didn't phase me, Dean persisted. "Dad's on a hunting trip," he clarified, "and he hasn't been home in a few days."

I knew I wouldnt be able to say no without an argument with Jess and without getting yelled at by dean. So I went. I went, believing these nightmares of Jess dying, of my happy world falling apart, were just that- dreams. Nightmares to be ignored. But after we found dad (and he ran off again, true to character) and I came home, I found out that they weren't. It went just like it did every night. I look p and there she is, burning alive on the ceiling. 

Dean was nearby at the time. He had wanted to try and persuade me to come back into the life. He pulled me out of the apartment, screaming and crying and kicking, just before it blew up I had no excuse not to go back in then. So I did. I could tell Dean was glad I was back, the reason I was there completely irreverent to him. We were family ,we were hunters, its just what we did. If anything, I think he resented me for trying to live a normal life. He never explicitly said it, but some things you can just tell. But we just hunted, like we always used to. Monsters of all kinds, just like we used to. Motel rooms for temporary homes, just like we used to. He called me "Samantha", just like he used to. It was like my change to a normal life, a good life where things were okay, all just a fever dream. An illusion I was a fool for chasing. It went on like that, just trying to find dad, to make him tell us about the lead he had on killing a demon. Its weird now to thin about, the fact that we had no idea how to kill one. Now that its such a common thing with us we don't even keep tally anymore. But things changed pretty quickly after that.

Dad found what we believed at the time to be the only one way to kill a demon, and it was like he was in a frenzy about killing the demon who killed mom all over again. I was going to say "Like a man possessed", but that would probably be in bad taste, all things considered. But it was all he could think about. He didn't even pay mind that after a while I had finally gotten Dean to call me Sam, to address me as his brother after all these years instead of a sister he didn't have. That made it bearable at least. He was far gone, honestly. But there we were, the three of us, ready to finally win. Then we got hit by a truck, the driver possessed.

Dean takes after dad so much really, and I should have realized it a lot sooner after this stunt. Dean was dying, body decimated by the crash. I knew I was going to lose him. Don't get me wrong, I loved my brother and I still do, but what dad did because of this was beyond selfish. It just wasn't his place, not to mention reckless. He made a deal with a demon- Dean would live, in exchange for the one weapon we had against demons, and his own soul. He didn't tell us, didn't consult us. He was just gone. We tried to move on, to keep hunting and get back in the swing of things. We even tried to get the colt, the weapon dad traded for Dean's life, back. But even so, it was obvious that Dean was saddled with incredible guilt. He probably still is. I don't know.

Around this time, the visions were getting worse. It would be small things in dreams at first, like what kind of burger Dean would order at some dive in some town no ones ever heard of. Then they got bigger, like local deaths, important information. Dean saw me as a freak. That he did directly say. After dad was gone, Dean changed a little. Maybe his sudden cruelty could be chalked up to mourning, but it wasn't just that. He slept even less than before, poured everything he had into working, like he had some horrible sin he had to pay penance for weighing on his shoulders. I don't think he ever really recovered from that if I'm being honest. I do hope he learned to forgive himself in the years we've been apart.

The visions kept coming, worse and worse over time, accompanied by headaches and blackouts and just so much pain. I was realizing my power, wherever it came from. At the time, I thought it was God. I was an idiot, I know that now, but I needed to believe that it wasn't from the dark things that I was told it was from. That I wasn't becoming a monster that Dean would have to kill one day. I know I was an idiot now, and what really gave me my abilities. Soon other psychics like me started to crop up. They were all around my age. Most of them had parents die in horrible fires like my mom did. Clearly, the same demon. We worked it out eventually, though the details are a little blurry now, that someone was creating an army of psychics. I didn't know it at the time, but the whole thing was being spearheaded, had been arranged by, the same demon that killed my mom. The same demon that dad made a deal with to save Dean's life. The same demon I was supposed to kill. We were ready, about to make our move, when I was taken.

It was like the hunger games for these other psychics and me. Anyone tried to leave, they were killed. Even then, things were so simple. Even with all of that nonsense, I thought our biggest worry was going to be some renegade hotshot demon. I think he planned to open a hellgate, let something through, let all the demons into the Earth. Who even knows anymore. We've dealt with that problem over and over now, but at the time it was a huge deal. This demon apparently wanted the strongest of the strong to "lead". Turns out it wasn't the only thing I was destined for. Or maybe he was grooming the vessel, who knows.

While I was there, I died. Stabbed in the back, literally. I don't remember what dying is like, but I know it had to be better than this. Obviously, Dean didn't take my death very well. And the apple doesn't far fall from the Winchester tree. He made a demon deal to bring me back to life. He had a year to live. He shouldn't have made it, clearly, but not just because it put his soul at risk for going to hell. He shouldn't have done it because if I had just died, none of this would have happened. The end of days, this hellscape we're living in now... None of it would have happened. It wouldn't have been able to.

After that, not long after, I think it might have actually been the same day but honestly I don't remember most of the months following the incident, we killed the demon that killed our mom, after all these years. We shut that hellgate for good. I thought we'd won. Idiot. That was until Dean finally got around to admitting to me how the hell I was still alive. I saw my scared over wound- it was fatal, plain and simple. I was so mad. I still am. If he had just let me die, just let me fucking die like I was supposed to, none of this would be happening. So for that year, we hunted like we were supposed to. We knew there was another demon we had to take out, her name was Lilith. She had apparently held the contract for the deal, the deed to Dean's soul. Our plan was to killer her and make sure Dean didn't have to go to hell basically. It didn't work, to put it lightly. Just hours before Dean's contract was up we finally cornered her. We tried to kill her, we were going to. We were so close. It was just around then, or maybe a little before I'm not really sure, that I met Ruby. She "helped us get closer". I feel disgusting just thinking about that, and about what I'm about to write. I might need to take a break, and come back to this tomorrow. I have a few day's drive until I get to Detroit. I don't need to finish this tonight.

Long story short, we were too late. I watched Dean get torn apart by hellhounds while Lilith laughed. I remember distinctly, that for some reason she kept choosing little girls as her vessels. It made the whole things worse than it would have been otherwise I think. I watched Dean die, and his soul was sent to hell, all while I heard this little girl giggling like she was watching a puppy try to walk I don't remember how I got out. I just remember I did. That I buried Dean a week later, some part of my subconscious forcing me to keep his body above ground for that time, believing he would be coming back, waking up. And then I fell off the grid, and the deep end.

I cant write what I did after that here. Not tonight at least. I feel sick just thinking about it and honestly if I write much more right now I might not make it to Detroit, the only way I'd be able to make things right. I'll stop tonight. There's an easily fortified building ahead, I'll rest and continue tomorrow. Maybe this is my pennance. I just know i need to finish this. It has to be written.

-Sam Winchester


End file.
